


Whirlpool

by princelogical



Series: The Human!Sides College AU Verse [10]
Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Gen, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Past Sexual Assault, Past Traumatic Experience, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Suicide, Suicide Attempt, mentioned past suicide attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-16
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-11-15 00:17:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 17,039
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11219268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princelogical/pseuds/princelogical
Summary: Second semester is in full swing and the college campus is in chaos when a student commits suicide. Now, Virgil is trying to deal with his own demons brought back to the surface, Roman’s struggling after he’s kicked from theater, Logan’s reeling after unexpected news about his mother, and Patton’s just trying to keep all his friends from falling apart.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Heed the tags and summaries, my friends. This story gets kinda dark and mucky. Takes place a couple months after A Darkened Holiday.

**Monday, February 6th 2017**

Police sirens woke Virgil up from the first dead sleep he’d had since Christmas vacation. He groaned tiredly and wondered if he’d somehow managed to sleep through both his roommate's and his own alarm. One look at his phone discounted that idea.  _ 3:33am _ He was tempted to fall back asleep, but the sirens were really loud and the feeling of dread he’d pushed down when he’d first woke up was beginning to grow stronger. 

He shoved away his sheets and pulled on his hoodie, ignoring his roommate’s groanings of, “Go to bed, Virgil; please.” Virgil ignored him, grabbed his phone and walked out of his dorm. Outside, half of the campus was gathered. Police officers were all around, as well as several ambulances parked around the campus. The local news channel’s van was parked at the end of the driveway into the parking lot. Caution tape was up, preventing entrance to the left side of the building. 

Everyone had wide eyes and several kids were sobbing, clutching onto each the other. Virgil’s heart was thumping up into his throat. Dread settled into his stomach, curling up and around his chest. He recognised the oncoming symptoms of an anxiety attack and he desperately tried to shove it down as he looked around for someone he at least partially recognized. 

Luck was on his side in that respect. He bumped right into the back of Roman, the loud boy he’d met back in December that he’d come to tolerate, maybe even consider a friend. Roman whirled around and instantly seemed to recognize Virgil. 

“Hey, Virgil. Great way to wake up, isn’t it?” His voice was chipper, but the light sarcasm leaked through.

Virgil shrugged. “What’s going on?”

Roman’s face went from pleasant to uncomfortable. “Well... as far as I know, some kid jumped from the roof.”

Virgil’s stomach plummeted. “ _ What? _ ”

“Yeah. They’d tried talking them down for hours, but they just... jumped.” Roman gazed sadly across the sea of students. Virgil shivered, blinking almost uncomprehendingly. Roman frowned and gently grasped Virgil by his shoulders. Virgil tensed in the grip. Sure, he’d gotten semi-used to both Roman and Patton’s touchy-feely ways, but it didn’t startle him any less each time. “Hey, are you all right?”

“Yeah, just a shock. It’s not everyday a kid jumps to their death.” Dry, dark humour- the usual.

Roman nodded, removing his hands. Virgil relaxed somewhat. “I think they’ll cancel classes today.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “They might hold an assembly. They usually do. Probably sometime next week.” Virgil felt like glue was stuck in his throat and for the moment, he’d have rather been around anyone but Roman. Not anything against Roman; he really could be nice when he wasn’t acting like a complete moron. However, Virgil just didn’t know him too well and he felt uncomfortable feeling so weird and emotional around him. 

“Yeah,” Roman said awkwardly.

“Hey!” a familiar voice called. Virgil turned around to see the familiar faces of Patton and Logan standing together, Patton waving wildly. Logan had on a pair of sweatpants and a sweatshirt, a stark contrast to his usual attire of a black shirt and necktie, while Patton wore a onesie, looking entirely unashamed of this fact; Logan’s cheeks were tinted a light pink.

Patton ran over to the two, Logan trailing behind at a much more reasonable pace. Virgil’s heart once again flopped into his throat at the sight of his two friends. It was so familiar and normal, the complete opposite of the chaos all around him. 

“I heard the sirens,” Logan explained once he was by Roman and Virgil, “and I saw the breaking news report on my phone. Patton was quite concerned.” Virgil could tell in Logan’s eyes, that he too was concerned, but Virgil dared not say anything. 

Patton wrapped his arms tightly around Virgil. For once, Virgil couldn’t find it in him to be repulsed by the physical contact. For a moment, it slowed his rapidly beating heart. 

“Several of my professors have contacted me to let me know they have cancelled class,” Logan said. He began listing off the classes, checking with Virgil and Roman to see if the either of them were in any of them as well. It was just like Logan to deal with the practical things first. It was quite comforting, really. 

Then all the students were being ushered back into the campus, told to check up with them later. The crowd grew louder, more students shouting in protest or sobbing loudly. 

“Should we all meet in our dorm?” Logan asked; it was unspokenly understood that he was referring to his and Patton’s dorm.

Patton and Logan’s dorm became the main place the four hung out at. It was no secret Virgil hated his roommate, Michael; he was a douchebag at best- loud, rude, and constantly kicking Virgil out. Roman also happened to hate his roommate. His apparently enjoyed drinking himself stupid and inviting friends over to watch videos on a laptop at top volume, then cackling until the break of dawn.

The four made their way through the thick crowd back into Logan and Patton’s dorm. Virgil flopped down on Patton’s bed, as usual, and Patton sat beside him. Logan sat on his own bed and Roman dramatically flung himself across the floor. 

The dorm had changed somewhat since Christmas. Logan’s side of the room actually looked a little more personal than it had when Virgil had first seen it. There was a board pinned on the wall and on the board was a neat little to-do list, which Logan updated daily. Beside that, pinned on the board, were a few pictures of their sledding adventure from Christmas, a picture of a young and happy looking couple that Virgil had found out was Logan’s parents (an apparently extremely touchy subject to Logan), and a picture of Logan smiling over his humanities project that he’d received an A on; he looked so happy no one dared make fun of him for it. 

“I wonder who it was,” Roman said finally, after a long stretch of silence. 

Patton sighed sadly. “They’ll announce it later. Four years ago a girl overdosed in her dorm and it was everywhere.”

Virgil pulled his hoodie impossibly tighter around himself. “It’s always sad when stuff like this happens.” He felt Patton’s eyes searing into him. 

“Yeah,” Roman agreed.

“They’ll hold an assembly,” Logan said. “They always do when things like this happen. It’s regulation.” 

Roman, Logan, and Patton kept on the conversation while Virgil pretended to drift back off to sleep; he felt Patton’s disbelieving eyes on him the entire time. 

_*_

Virgil almost wished he’d stayed in bed. The chatter through the halls was now all about Tyler Kirk, the boy who’d jumped from the top of the campus building. It was announced around 2:40 from the campus administrator's official email account. What probably felt the worst was that Virgil had seen Tyler in half his classes; they’d even partnered in chemistry before. But had Virgil ever made an attempt to be his friend? No. He hadn’t even thought that perhaps Tyler was struggling- that he might need someone.

After the few classes that actually held a session, he went to work at Fast Food Hell. It wasn’t  _ actually _ called Fast Food Hell, but Logan, always prim and proper Logan, had used the nickname once and it stuck. Even through all the normalcy of classes and work, Virgil still felt as though he was walking through syrup the entire day. 

_ When Virgil was eighteen _

he’d freshly graduated and freshly gotten a shining diagnosis of clinical depression and post-traumatic stress disorder. His poor, wonderful, lovely parents had tried so very hard with him, yet he felt like he was teetering on the edge of insanity. 

On the day of his graduation, it all felt like it was crashing. His cap and gown were ready; his parents had excitedly planned a big dinner and party, with balloons, cake, catering, and family. Everything was perfect, but this horrible drilling in his head that this was  _ it _ . He wasn’t going to make it in the real world, no one was going to like him- it was an intense pressure, itching at his skin and he need to get it out.

6:00pm, when his class was beginning to walk and everyone was wondering where in the world Virgil was, he attempted suicide in his bathroom.

It was messy, it was gross, and his parents wept so much that Virgil swore to God he’d never do something as stupid as that again. He admitted himself to a psychiatric hospital for six months, where he bloomed then went off to college and 

_ swore to never tell anyone. _

**Princey has started a new conversation with you!**

**Princey (6:34pm):** yo, brotha from antha motha

**Hot Topic (6:35pm):** Was that enlish? 

**Hot Topic (6:35pm):** *english 

**Princey (6:36pm):** rood. 

**Princey (6:36pm):** anyway, when do u get off work?

**Hot Topic (6:39pm):** 8\. Y?

**Princey (6:40pm):** i’ll pick u up instead of patton :D

**Hot Topic (6:40pm):** i’m not riding in a car with you

**Princey (6:42pm):** D: why not??

**Hot Topic (6:43pm):** your music taste sucks.

**Princey (6:48pm):** wut if i said i’d bring an mcr playlist? 

**Hot Topic (6:48pm):** ...i could be swayed.

At exactly 8:10, what Roman claimed was “fashionably late,” he pulled into the parking lot blaring Agony. Virgil rolled his eyes and plopped into the passenger seat, snatching the phone and switching it off. Roman pouted. 

“Why don’t you like good music?”

“I do,” Virgil said, “but apparently you have no idea what that is.”

Roman glared then sighed. “Whatever. Play your trash. But we’re all going out to eat tonight.”

Virgil frowned. “Why?”

“Patton’s idea. Logan’s been doing his Logan thing again,”

_ Logan thing; _

_ loe-gan-thee-ng _

_ phrase; _

_ A phrase used to describe the process in which Logan overworks himself to the point his emotional and/or physical health is at risk. _

“and it’s worrying Patton.”

“What doesn’t worry Patton?  _ Everyone _ worries Patton.”

Roman dramatically gasped and clasped his chest, as if he’d been punched. “I would never worry Patton.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “All right, Princey, calm down. But I think your driving in itself is enough to worry anyone.”

“I am a perfectly good driver.”

“You go twenty over the speed limit.”

“I’m going twelve over, thank you very much.”

“Whatever.” Virgil hit play on his music, the universal sign he was done talking. 

The sandwich shop Roman drove him to was nearly empty when they arrived, a small blessing by Virgil’s standards. Patton and Logan were already sitting down at a table. Logan’s black bag, stuffed with what Virgil knew to be textbooks, was sitting beside his chair. Logan looked up from his phone and gave a polite little nod to him then looked back down.

Roman sat down and instantly began talking. “This generation and their phones. Tsk, tsk.”

Logan looked up and frowned. “Obviously. This generation has been brought up with the invention of cellphones, whereas generations before did not. Therefore, it’s only natural that this generation-”

“Woah, woah,” Roman put his hands up in surrender, “I was only joking, man.” He smiled meekly. “How’re the studies coming?”

“As well as they can be, I suppose,” Logan said with a little shrug. 

“Any news on...” Patton trailed off. They all knew what he was talking about.

“Tyler Kirk,” Virgil said and everyone turned their attention on him. “Uhm, apparently, it was Tyler Kirk who jumped. He was in several classes with me.” 

“How sad,” Roman said and he sounded like he really meant it. He huffed out a sigh, long and tired. “I’ve never understood how a person could... just end their lives like that. You know?”

Virgil felt where the conversation was going and the room suddenly felt very hot. It wasn’t like... none of them knew. They all  _ knew _ . He’d told Patton in the middle of a freaking breakdown- Logan had observed the “factors” and came to Virgil with a hypothesis, which Virgil just confirmed with a shrug a quiet, “yeah, but it’s past crap, you know?”- And  _ Roman _ ... Roman had found out in the most humiliating way; while Virgil was drunk and distressed out of his mind. 

Patton was staring at Virgil, as if he expected Virgil to scream or flip the table or-

“People kill themselves for many different reasons.” Ah, Logan. Always taking the analytical approach to everything. “Which is why it’s nearly impossible to always know  _ why _ .”

“Yeah,” Roman said slowly. “Guess you never really know until it’s you, huh?”

The table fell into silence, each simmering in their own thoughts- none of them felt the need to speak.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning; again, heed the tags. there's a lot of discussion of self injury and suicide.

**Tuesday, February 7th 2017**

Some people get a case of The Mondays- Virgil was struggling with a severe case of The Tuesdays. For the first time since high school, Virgil cut class. He straight up flicked off his alarm and curled back up to sleep, immediately regretting it as soon as he woke up. He wrote an apologetic email to his professor, saying he was feeling ill. He supposed one could add “lying” to his growing list of sins for the day. 

Another thing to add would be worrying his parents. He ignored their calls and his mom’s several texts, saying: “I heard about the student’s suicide. Please call me.” And his dad’s always professional, yet gentle-hearted as ever email:

**Recipient:** [ **Virgilizdum@gmail.com** ](mailto:anthonyizdum@gmail.com)

**Sender: johnathon-s@zoomtown.com**

**Virgil,**

**I heard about Tyler Kirk’s suicide. I’m terribly sorry; I remember you speaking about a project the two of you did together. In September, correct? Your mom and I think it would be best to make an appointment with your therapist. Obviously, we cannot tell you what to do. We can only suggest things. I am, however, concerned. Please call your mom; she’s worried sick. I love you, as always.**

**Kind Regards,**

**Dad**

The only reason he couldn’t call off work was because he’d have to text Patton, his ride, that he wasn’t feeling good and Patton would call him and Patton would read right through his lies and- No. Just... he wasn’t in the mood to go through that. 

Virgil made his way to Patton’s dorm, as he usually did. He knocked and Logan called out from inside, “Come in.” And so he did. Logan sat on his bed, dressed for work, typing rapidly on his laptop. Bags smeared under his eyes, barely covered by his glasses. His hair was messy- unlike his usual perfect, no hair out of place look. 

“Hey,” Virgil said hesitantly. 

Logan looked up and gave a small, welcoming smile. “Hello Virgil. Patton’s almost ready.” He slowly shut his laptop lid and looked off, almost as if he wasn’t fully present in the room. Then he turned once more to Virgil. “You weren’t in American Literature today. I was presenting for your class.”

Virgil nearly slapped himself. How could he have forgotten? Logan was so excited for it too; he’d been talking about it since the beginning of January, when he was told he could present a class for American Lit. “I’m sorry,” he said weakly. “I uh-”

“My feelings were not hurt,” Logan said. “I was just wondering if you were, uh,” Logan hesitated, “okay?”

“Yes, I just-” he couldn’t think of a plausible lie. “My roommate just was up late and loud and I- I totally slept through my alarm.” Any other day Virgil wouldn’t feel bad for throwing Michael under the bus, but in this case, Michael was entirely innocent. The guy had come in and flung himself into bed, falling asleep near instantly. 

“That’s perfectly understandable,” Logan said. He brushed invisible lint away from his pants. “It wasn’t insufficient or intolerable when you stayed throughout the holidays. If you need a place to spend the night, I’m sure Patton would not mind and, to be entirely honest, I wouldn’t either.”

“Thank you,” Virgil said. “I’ll remember that. I uh- I actually was wondering if you were okay.”

“Why?” Logan asked, as if Virgil didn’t have a reason in the world to be concerned. 

“You seem a bit... Dunno, down? Out of it?” Virgil shrugged. “Just wanted to see if you were okay.”

“Oh, I’m fine. Just some... family issues.” As soon as the words were out of Logan’s mouth, he looked as if he wanted to take them right back. Virgil understood; Logan wasn’t the type to share what was troubling him or express his feelings.   

“Gotcha. If you need to talk...” Virgil trailed off.

“I appreciate that. Thank you.”

Virgil almost wished Patton would burst in, to evaporate the stupid awkwardness that had ensued, but no such luck. Logan sat, nervously tapping the corners of his laptop in a perfect rhythm, as Virgil stuffed his hands in his pockets and determinedly stared ahead. 

“I received an email,” Logan began, “from administration. Tyler’s funeral is Saturday. The school is holding a suicide prevention assembly on Sunday. It’s optional, but it’s worth credit. Are you attending?”

Virgil, the rotten little student he was, hadn’t even opened his school issued laptop that day. He swallowed. “Uhm, yeah.”

“Are you referring to the funeral or the assembly?” 

“Both,” Virgil said distractedly. “You?”

“I don’t like funerals,” Logan said, “but if you are going, I will be willing to attend.” 

Virgil smiled and couldn’t help feeling grateful. For all the pressure Logan put on himself, saying he wasn’t a good friend- he really was a good, loyal, and selfless friend. 

Finally, Patton waltzed in, grinning. “Ready to go, kiddos?”

“I’m ready,” Logan said and stood up, grabbing his bag.

Patton dropped Logan off first, which was entirely normal until Patton pulled over into a parking lot and stared searchingly into Virgil’s eyes. It was ever-so rare that Patton grew so serious and Virgil felt unsettled and nervous. 

“Uhm... This isn’t our stop.”

Patton looked to his watch. “We have about twenty minutes before you have to be there.” Virgil squirmed in his seat, feeling like a child awaiting punishment. 

“Patton, what ar-”

“We barely talked after the party last December,” was Patton  _ really  _ going to bring that up? “and I don’t fault you for it, kiddo, I really don’t. That was hard on you. And now this, this-” Patton smiled softly, hesitantly, “this thing with Tyler-”

“You think it’s going to trigger me,” Virgil said dryly. 

“Don’t try to act like it’s a stupid thing,” Patton said, an edge to his gentle voice. “I know enough about you to know that something like this on top of what happened in December might be harmful to your mental health.”

“Why does everybody think I’m gonna freak out?” Virgil snapped. “First my parents, now you. Geez, does anyone trust me to be a responsible adult? I don’t even have as many issues anymore. My depression is under control- And- and even the other crap.”

“Virgil, it’s not stupid to be struggling,” Patton said softly. 

“You don’t know the half of what I’ve been through; all I’ve done to fix my stupid self,” Virgil said, trying to muffle his anger. He really didn’t want to shove away Patton, but a sick, sadistic, and bitter part of him wanted to just see how far he could push before Patton had enough. “I’m not going to freak out because someone killed themself. People do it all the time.”

“That doesn’t make it okay.”

“But it doesn’t make it anything to freak out about.”

Patton sighed, his breath fogging in the cold air. “Okay. Okay. I know you know yourself better than I do, kiddo. I can’t even-” He sighed. “I don’t know all you’ve been through. But if you ever need an ear, I’m here.”

“Thanks,” Virgil mumbled. “I’m just- I’m okay. I’m going to work. I’m still in school. I’m not slitting my wrists in the bathrooms.” Patton flinched and Virgil felt guilty for a long moment. “You don’t have to worry about me.” 

Patton smiled weakly. “I always worry. I can’t help it.”

“I know,” Virgil said. He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry I’m such a jerk to you sometimes. I- I really appreciate you.”

“It’s okay,” Patton said, but he looked a little hurt and Virgil felt like driving his face through the windshield for being such an idiot. “I know you don’t mean it.”

“I don’t. Ever. I-”

“It’s okay,” Patton said, seeming to notice Virgil’s growing distress. “It’s all right. Now we better get going or you’ll be late for work.”

_*_

“Hi mom,” Virgil said into his phone. He sighed, a wisp of his breath trailing along out of his mouth. The snow on the ground had melted then re-froze into solid ice, which he stared at as he left a long-deserved message on his mom’s phone. “I’ve been busy with...”  _ not much, _ “a lot. So, sorry for kind of ignoring your texts. Anyway, I was just returning your call to say I’m doing fine. It’s sad and stuff, Tyler’s suicide and all. I mean, it’s always sad when stuff like that happens, but I’m okay. I love you guys so much. Give Smokey my love. Bye.” Virgil hung up with a long sigh. There. Hopefully that would ease his parents’ minds. 

_ When Virgil was fourteen years old, _

he and his friend, Leo, went to a bookfair together. Not because they liked books (that really wasn’t the cool thing to like), or because they were interested in the slightest, but because if they attended and bought something, they could win a sixty dollar gift card to the “coolest” video game shop. So Virgil bought the cheapest book, a corny picture book about German Shepherds. 

He threw the book in the back of his closet when he got home, only caring to refresh the school’s webpage, which would show the winners. Leo won and the two split the card. Virgil forgot about the book for three months, until he pulled it out of his closet one boring day and read up on the German Shepherd. When his parents got home, he begged them over and over for a dog; a German Shepherd. 

He’d buy it with his savings, he swore. He’d feed it and love it and take care of it. His parents wouldn’t know it was there. Convinced, they bought a shining new female German Shepherd puppy that they named Smokey. She became Virgil’s best friend. And after the big  _ incident  _ in sophomore year, Smokey was the one thing that kept Virgil from killing himself, because if he died,

_ Smokey would lose her best friend too. _

Virgil closed his eyes and sat down on the bench outside of Fast Food Hell. It felt nice to sit outside in the cold darkness, the only noise coming from the muffled chatter inside and the occasional car starting or pulling in the parking lot. His phone buzzed against his pocket and with a grunt, Virgil pulled it out.

**New message from Michael!**

**Michael (7:59pm):** u got a place to stay tonight?

**Virgil (8:00pm):** my dorm? Lol.

**Michael (8:00pm):** i have friends coming over. 

**Virgil (8:01pm):** You have got to be joking.

**Michael (8:01pm):** nope, pls see if u can stay somewhere. U never sleep anyway lol

**Virgil (8:03pm):** lol right. I do prefer my own bed, but whatever.

**Michael (8:04pm):** no need to be so passive aggressive, dude.

**Virgil (8:04pm):** Passive aggressive. Okay. Right lolll. I won’t disturb u and your friends, so don’t worry. 

**Michael (8:06pm):** Ur the man.

Roman peeled in the parking lot, just as Virgil was debating on throwing his phone as hard as he could onto the ice. Virgil raised an eyebrow then walked over to the car and yanked open the passenger seat. 

“What’re you doing here again?”

“Wow, rude,” Roman said. “And be kind to Angelina; she’s all I got.” Virgil grunted and slid into the seat, making sure to slam the door just because he was in that kind of petty mood. “Hey! What did I just say? Now apologise.”

“To your  _ car _ ?” Virgil asked in disbelief. 

“Yes. I’m not moving until you do.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Sorry,” he grunted. 

“Oh no,” Roman cooed. He stroked the dashboard and Virgil rolled his eyes again. “He doesn’t mean it, dearest.” He pulled out of the lot then looked to Virgil. “So, having a bad day I take it?”

“Understatement,” he grumbled. 

“Hm. Same though.”

“You’ve had a bad day too?”

“Yeah,” Roman said with a long sigh. “I got kicked from theater, because my last audition was awful.”

“I’m sorry. That... sucks.”

“I can rejoin next fall semester, but... I really love being a part of it. It really bums me out.”

“Yeah,” Virgil said. He knew how much theater meant to Roman, so he didn’t dare tease him about it. 

“Well, enough of my sorrows. What troubles you?” Roman asked dramatically. 

“My stupid roommate kicked me out again,” Virgil said. “He’s having friends over.”

“What a charming person.”

“Seriously. He’s just needlessly a total tool.”

Roman laughed. “Well, through your terrible fashion sense, awful music taste, and the way you bully Angelina-”

“-it’s a  _ car _ , Roman-”

“-at least we can relate on terrible roommates.”

“Well, you aren’t wrong there. I just wish Michael wasn’t such an... ugh.”

“Well, if you don’t mind sleeping on the floor and Britney Spears blaring throughout the night, you can stay in my dorm,” Roman offered. 

“Wait, for real?”

“Dude, I wouldn’t offer if I didn’t mean it,” Roman said seriously. “Besides, I need someone to keep me from killing Kit.” 

_ Kit; _

_ Proper Noun _

_ The name of an unpleasant and often drunk roommate. _

“All right. Thanks, Roman.”

“No prob.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know if anyone's noticed, but this story is written in a different format than ADH and I'm really worried it's not turning out good and it's kind of sloppy. But then again, I feel like it also follows Anthony's thought process best. Anyway, I've been working super hard on this chapter... Hope everyone enjoys! Let me know what you think. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Wednesday, February 8th 2017**

They didn’t get back to the dorm until 12:32am, because Roman decided he needed to buy a thousand things from the store. Then he wanted to grab a “snack,” which turned into three slices of grease-dribbling pizza and a large coke; Virgil decided on a small fry. They ate their food in near silence, only occasionally stopping to argue about something pointless; Disney, the best shade of blue, and if the colour black was an acceptable favourite colour or not. 

Roman wasn’t kidding through the many times he had described his roommate. As soon as they went into Roman’s dorm, Virgil heard “Toxic” blaring through the tiny laptop speakers sitting on a bed that Virgil assumed was Roman’s roommate’s. A boy with a scruff and leather jacket laid on the floor, staring at the ceiling. He looked over to Roman and Virgil standing in the doorway and gave a little wave then went back to staring. 

“Probably drunk,” Roman muttered. “Just stay away from his side of the room and we’ll be fine.”

It was easy to tell which side of the room was Roman’s and which was his roommate’s. His roommate’s was dirty and his laptop was cracked in several places. A few beer bottles were shoved under the bed. The wall above his bed had two rock posters taped up and a few movie tickets- no pictures. The blankets had little marks where food and drinks had spilt on them. For a moment, Virgil was grateful for Michael. 

Roman’s side wasn’t clean, but it was a far shot from filthy. His bed was made, but the corners weren’t tucked in. His laptop was opened at the edge of the bed, six Disney stickers plastered across the cheap plastic. The wall above his bed was covered in at least thirty taped pictures; some of Roman’s family, cousins, mom and dad. Then some pictures of Logan, Patton, and Virgil. One of Logan trying to shove the camera away, but through the frame of his fingers you could see a tiny little smile. There were at least twelve selfies of Roman, usually wearing his stupid prince costume. 

All Virgil could manage to say finally was, “Doesn’t room inspection get him in trouble?”

“He’s dating the inspector.” 

“Wow,” Virgil mumbled. “That’s... something.”

Roman sighed and pulled off his coat and tossed it on the floor. He flopped on his bed and patted a spot beside him. “Let’s watch Into The Woods.”

“Are you kidding me? Into The Woods?”

“Oh, c’mon, edgelord. You gotta love Into The Woods.”

Which, eh, was kind of true. It wasn’t as if Virgil detested it or anything. And  _ maybe  _ it wouldn’t be too terrible to watch it. Virgil sat down beside Roman, who was then busily placing a DVD so carefully into his laptop, it was as if Roman was holding a newborn baby- not a disk. Roman plugged some weird device into the USB port, then grabbed two sets of big headphones and plugged them into the device. 

It wasn’t as terrible as Virgil would have thought it could be. The volume was turned up high enough and the headphones heavy enough, to muffle the noise of Circus blasting in the background. Roman’s laptop, though a bit laggy, played the film quite nicely. It was lulling and enchanting in a tired sort of way and Virgil found exhaustion to be catching up with him. A little over halfway through the movie, Virgil found himself slumped against the wall behind Roman’s bed, asleep. 

_ When Virgil was sixteen years old, _

no more than a week after the big Incident, when he began having terrible, ruthless, and violent dreams. He hid them from his parents for the longest time, terrified he was becoming some sick and disgusting monster. After months of hiding, smearing foundation under his eyes, and lying, his parents finally cornered him and begged him to tell them what was going on. 

He was sent to therapy. He was analyzed until his mind felt as if it could take no more and it wasn’t until he was about to turn eighteen, that everyone braved up enough to call it what it was: PTSD. Post traumatic stress disorder. Everyone really should have seen it coming, but they didn’t, so 

_ no one really knew how to deal with it. _

“Hey, Virgil.” Virgil felt his shoulder being shook quite roughly. For a moment he felt disoriented and confused. His clothes stuck to his body with sweat and a jacket that wasn’t his was thrown over him. Virgil sat up, the jacket slipping into his lap. Roman sat on his knees, grinning. “You fell asleep during the movie, man.”

“Whoops.” Virgil rubbed his eyes. “What time is it?”

“Late. I took off the headphones so you didn’t strangle yourself in your sleep.” He gestured to the headphones on the bed, as if giving proof. “What time do you have to get up? I’ll set my alarm.”

“No, it’s good. I can set mine,” Virgil said. He dug around his pockets until he pulled out his phone and began setting the alarm. The room was eerily quiet, except for quiet snores from Kit’s side of the room. “Thanks for letting me stay, Roman,” Virgil mumbled. 

“No problem. Get some sleep.” Then he flicked off the lights and made his way back into bed. Virgil wondered for a moment if Roman was going to make true to his word and kick Virgil to the floor, but he seemed to not care at all. So Virgil just curled closer to himself, taking care not to bump or annoy Roman and fell back asleep within minutes for the first time in a long time. 

He awoke to his alarm screeching at him and he wanted nothing more than to roll over and go back to sleep, but it wasn’t like he could lay in bed all day in Roman’s dorm. Especially since Roman was wide awake, humming Beyoncé as he piled his textbooks in a stack. 

“Good morning, my favourite emo Sleeping Beauty.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “It’s too early for this.”

Roman feigned offense. “Wow, rude. I was being nice.”

“Yeah, take nice and stuff it-” Roman threw a pillow at him and he shut up. 

He wanted to cut class more than anything. He wanted to lay in bed and throw a little pity party, but he couldn’t do that right in front of Roman, so he trudged on to classes, not caring that his clothes weren’t exactly clean and he looked a little like death warmed over. 

Before every class, there was a mandatory greeting from the teacher letting everyone know about Tyler’s funeral and the assembly. In every class, at least two people burst into tears, one requested a moment of silence, and one jerk said Tyler Kirk didn’t deserve all the sympathy he was getting. Virgil just sat in the back, quietly wishing he wasn’t there. 

At least before no one had really bothered him about it. Sure, Patton and his parents expressed their worry; kids spoke up, but at least those kids weren’t talking directly to Virgil. However, in chemistry, the girl sitting next to him leaned over to his ear. He stiffened. She didn’t notice his discomfort and began to speak.

“I’m already tired of hearing of about Tyler already, aren’t you?” Virgil shrugged. She went on, “He was always deranged. Kind of creepy. I don’t get it.” She sighed. “It’s sad, but we shouldn’t have to stop our lives just ‘cause some kid decides to do something s-”

“I’m sorry, I have to pee,” Virgil interrupted and stood up. He grabbed his textbook and bounded out of the classroom. His heart was pounding madly; his feet felt numb as they slapped against the shining clean tiles. He burst into the men’s restroom, every muscle in his body trembling. 

Just his luck, Michael sat on the floor, smoking a cigarette. Michael looked just as surprised to see Virgil as Virgil did to see Michael. Virgil rolled his eyes and turned around, trembling, prepared to walk straight out. 

“Hey!” Michael called. “Wassup, Virgil?” 

“Nothing,” Virgil grumbled. “If you get caught, you’re screwed, you know that?”

“I won’t,” Michael said with a shrug. He flicked ashes onto the floor and scraped them under the vents with his shoe. Virgil’s lip curled in disgust. “You look downright terrified. There something up? Should I be running for my life?”

“Please. Like I’d tell you,” Virgil snapped. He went to push the door, but Michael shouted out before he could.

“Wait! Want a smoke?”

“Why would I do that?” Virgil asked, glaring. “Smoking’s just... It’ll kill you.”

Michael shrugged. “Cool.” The way he said it made Virgil’s blood freeze. Michael looked Virgil over. “You know, when I’m shakin’ like that, I  _ know _ I need me a smoke.” He snuffed out his cigarette into the ground and tossed it in the trash, then grabbed another one from his jacket pocket and put it to his lips. His hands were trembling slightly as he lit it. 

“All this about Tyler,” Michael began, his voice a bit shaky, “is really rough.” 

Virgil swallowed. “Yeah.”

“Tyler was a good guy. My best friend.” Virgil nearly fell over at the news. It was like he dehumanized Michael so much, he forgot that the idiot was capable of having friends- normal, human, broken ones at that. “I thought because he was happy a lot that he was getting better. But whatever.” Michael took a long drag from the smoking cigarette. “I don’t like being in class when they’re all talking about him like they know him at all. I get sick of it. What’re you doing, running in here?”

Virgil shakily sat across from Michael with a sigh. “I just got sick of it too, I guess.”

Michael snorted. “Good.”

Virgil decided Michael was a douchebag, annoying, and rude. But Michael was human. And Virgil couldn’t really quite hate him. 

_*_

**Mom (5:43pm):** Thanks for calling me, sweetheart. Miss you a lot. :-( Is there anyway you can come home this weekend? We’re having pizza for dinner! ;-)

**Virgil (5:50pm):** i would, but tyler’s funeral is sat. and sun. the school is holding an assembly. Maybe next week?

**Mom (5:54pm):** That would be lovely! Love you! <3 

**Virgil (5:46pm):** love u too :)

**New message from Patton!**

**Patton (6:01pm):** How are you?

**Virgil (6:04pm):** good. U?

**Patton (6:04pm):** Amazing! :D You in the mood for studying after work? Logan wanted me ask.

**Virgil (6:07pm):** In the mood for studying? Bless him oml. 

**Virgil (6:07pm):** But sure. where? 

**Patton (6:22pm):** cafeteria until they kick us out LOL

**Virgil (6:23pm):** ur great, but don’t lol me in all caps again. 

**Virgil (6:34pm):** so u picking me up or is Princey picking me up again?

**Patton (6:39pm):** I will! :D

**Virgil (6:42pm):** see ya later 

**Patton (6:44pm):** See ya! :D

Patton picked him up just as Virgil was walking out and taking the cap for Fast Food Hell out of his greasy hair. He wondered when the last time he’d showered was. Sunday? No- And Monday he hadn’t got the chance. Saturday. He hadn’t showered since Saturday. 

Pathetic. He hadn’t gotten that bad since high school. 

“How was work?” Logan asked from the backseat as Virgil slid in the passenger seat. 

“Terrible. You?”

“Insufferable.” 

Patton grinned from the front seat. “Want me to swing through and grab dinner?”

“I ate lunch,” Logan said distantly, his eyes already back on his textbooks. A little book light shone over the glossy pages of some advanced history class. 

“Grabbing dinner then,” Patton mumbled, sounding sad. Virgil felt terrible; Patton tried so hard to make sure everyone was safe, healthy, and okay.

Patton drove through the drive through, ordering three sandwiches, two coffees, and one fruit punch. Virgil glanced back to Logan. He was on his phone again, typing frantically, eyes narrowed. After they got their food and pulled out, they drove in silence until Logan grunted out,

“Good God, I hate my family.” Then he shoved his head into his hands and pulled his hair. 

“What’s wrong?” Virgil asked quietly. 

Logan kept his head in his hands for a couple minutes until he took a deep breath and pulled his head back up. His fingers began tapping at a rhythmic pace; a sure sign Logan was nervous. 

“I’m afraid I will have to cancel on studying tonight.”

“What’s wrong, kiddo?” Patton asked worriedly. “Should I pull over?”

“No, no,” Logan said quickly. “My mother has been hospitalized. I’m going to catch the next train to visit her. Can you drop me off at the station? It’s less than seven miles aw-”

“Logan, deep breath,” Patton said. “I’m pulling over.”

He did as he said and both Patton and Virgil got out of the car. Virgil stood outside the car, arms folded as he leaned against the door. Patton slid in next to Logan. 

“What’s happened?” Patton asked. 

Logan sighed deeply. “My mother was injured at work. It’s nothing serious, but my father insists I come to see her. If I don’t, I’m a terrible son who does not care about my own mother-”

“You’re not a terrible son, no matter if you see her or not,” Patton insisted. 

“I should have been gentler with her last time we spoke.”

“You handled the situation perfectly,” Patton said. “Think logically.”

Logan gave a small smile. “I guess.”

Virgil considered himself lucky in the parental department. Sure, he’d fought with them sometimes, especially after the whole fiasco in sophomore year, but his parents were always loving and kind. There was never a single doubt that they loved him. But with Logan- It burned a strange anger inside Virgil knowing how stupid and horrible Logan’s parents were. He remembered a while ago, when Logan and he were still getting to know each other, how startled he’d been at Logan’s matter-of-fact knowledge that his own parents didn’t love him.

_ “I’m going home over the weekend,” Virgil said. He was stuffing his bag with clothes. “What’re you doing, Logan?” _

_ “I’m staying over,” Logan said. _

_ “You’re not going home?” _

_ “No,” Logan said. “There’s nothing there.” _

_ Virgil blinked in surprise. “Nothing there?” _

_ “I mean,” Logan said stiffly, closing his textbook, “my family holds no love for me. Why should I ruin their weekend?” _

“I can drive you up to the hospital if you really want to go,” Patton said. “And if Virgil needs to go back to the dorms, I can drop him-”

“Don’t try to ditch me,” Virgil joked lightly. 

Patton smiled. “All right then. But you’re not catching a train... alone. This late, especially. Okay?” His tone was one Virgil recognised- no matter how much Logan would try to argue, Patton was not going to budge. 

“It’s a seven hour drive,” Logan protested meekly. “That’s if I’m not adding on stops or traffic. Besides, you all have work and class; I don’t want to pull you away from everything to drive me up to see my mom.”

“I’ll call off work,” Patton said seriously. “And I have a good enough attendance record to get out of class.”

“Me too,” Virgil added. 

“Don’t try to argue with us anymore, kiddo. It’s up to you whether you go or not, but you’re not going alone.”

Logan sighed. “You both are terribly illogical and driven by...  _ feelings _ .”

“Boo hoo,” Virgil said. “Better than being heartless.”

“Perhaps,” Logan mused. Then sighed again. “All right, fine. I’ll text my father and say that I... cannot come up. I blame you two for being blinded by feelings, but sometimes I think I am too.”

“It’s all right,” Virgil said. “It’s not like you can help it.”

“Thank you, Virgil. I must admit, you two are exceptionally good friends.”

“Don’t get all mushy,” Virgil snorted. “But you are too. No denying it.”

And he meant it entirely. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote the entire first draft while eating a loaf of Pumpernickel bread. Don’t judge.
> 
> Anyway, what do you think? I hope you enjoy!!!! <3


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> revelations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for gun violence, PTSD flashback, and death.

**Thursday, February 9th 2017**

After a lot of insisting from Logan, Virgil decided to stay in their dorm for the night. Instead of going right to sleep, however, he went into the showers and took one for the first time in a while; he’d underestimated how much it’d help his mind feel a little clearer. He came back to Logan arguing with someone on the phone and Patton watching on with an expression of concern. Virgil sat down beside him, pulling his legs up with his body. Patton turned and smiled at him.

“I’m worried about him,” he said with a light gesture to Logan. “And you,” he admitted with a sigh. 

“Do you ever worry about yourself?” Virgil asked. 

Patton furrowed his brow. “Why would I?”

“Nevermind,” Virgil mumbled. “His parents are something else.”

“That’s a nice way to put it,” Patton said, his chin cupped in his hand. “They should appreciate what an amazing and intelligent kid they have.”

“Yeah,” Virgil agreed. 

“How are you?” Patton asked seriously. “I didn’t hear from you at all last night.”

“Roman let me stay at his dorm. He wasn’t exaggerating about his roommate though.”

Patton was smiling. “You hung out? With another friend?” He looked a little beyond excited. 

“Don’t act so depressed about it, Patton; I might think you don’t care,” he said sarcastically. 

“Don’t be like that,” Patton grinned and lightly punched Virgil’s shoulder. “I’m happy you’re coming out of your shell a little more.”

“I’m not some shy little fourth grader. Besides, I make friends easily.” 

Patton smiled and didn’t object. “Okay, kiddo.”

Virgil spoke up after a moment of silence. “Some girl told me she’s tired of hearing about Tyler already.”

“Really?” 

“She said that it’s sad, but we shouldn’t stop our lives because of it.”

Patton frowned. “No one is stopping their lives.”

“I wonder... if I were to die, would everyone get sick of hearing about me within two days? Or would anyone care at all? Or-” As soon as the dark thoughts had started, they couldn’t stop coming out. “Or would it be this big thing and everyone is tired of it-” 

Patton’s eyes were wide, mouth slightly agape. “Virgil! No!”

Virgil pressed his trembling hand to his mouth, tears building up in his eyes. They were having a normal conversation and things were going perfectly and he  _ ruined  _ it. Where had it come from anyway? Were those thoughts just creeping in the back of his mind since Tyler jumped? Since Virgil’s own first attempt? Since he was a baby? Maybe he was born to be dark and annoying and-

Patton was still staring, mouth open. His voice cracked as he tried to speak, “I’d care. Your parents would care. Logan would care-”

“Stop,” Virgil croaked out. 

“Roman would care. Your dog would care. Half the people with a heart would care. I wouldn’t get tired of hearing about you or- or get sick of it. Who do you think I am? Or your friends are? And-”

“Patton, I’m sorry,” Virgil said. Tears were rolling down his cheeks. His heart was beating into overdrive. 

Patton’s mouth snapped shut and he covered his own eyes. Virgil knew he was crying. “I’m so worried about you, Virgil,” came the muffled voice from behind his hands.

“I’m fine, I’m fine- You don’t have to worry-” Virgil burst into loud and hiccuping tears. Logan looked up, eyebrows scrunching together in confusion. He spoke something into the phone, then sighed, looking away once more. 

“I do, because you don’t seem to care about yourself at all,” Patton said, wiping his eyes. He reached and wrapped a tight arm around Virgil’s shoulders. 

“I don’t see why I should,” Virgil said, his voice a near whimper.

“Because you’re just as important as anyone else,” Patton said. “Why do you think you’re not?”

“Because I’m not!” Virgil snapped. “I’m a terrible person.”

“H-how?” 

“You-” Virgil’s bottom lip trembled and he bit it until it stilled. “You don’t understand.”

“Because you don’t bother to tell me anything. I can’t even try to understand when you don’t tell me anything!” 

The words hung in the air. Then, “I’m tired. Can I go to sleep?”

Patton blinked. “I’m not your boss.”

“It’s your dorm.”

Patton sighed. “Fine.” Another sigh. “I hope you know how much people care about you.”

Virgil knew he was being a jerk as he ignored the words and laid down, as flattened against the wall as much as possible. He heard Patton shifting around, then lying back down with a sad sigh. Logan finally got off the phone a few minutes later and then began flipping through textbooks. He heard Patton sigh once again at that. 

Virgil felt like the world’s biggest douchebag. Patton deserved a better friend. Someone who would open up and appreciate his care. Instead, Patton was stuck with a grumpy, anxious, always-lying, stupid, death-wishing idiot. Life isn't fair, that was for sure. Patton didn’t deserve the short end of the stick, but he got it. 

_ When Virgil was twelve years old _

he learned about Stranger Danger for the one hundred millionth time since he was six. He was taught to look out, because there were evil people in the world who wanted to hurt children. He learned everything from not getting into a stranger’s car to screaming when they grabbed you and tried to take you away.

Then Virgil learned that you don’t have to be taken away to be hurt; sometimes you’re sitting in your cousin’s living room and a gun fires off. Sometimes it’s your little cousin who somehow got ahold of their father’s gun from his desk drawer, because Virgil forgot for sixteen minutes to pay attention. Sometimes that same little cousin got a little too excited, a little too comfortable messing around with the cold metal. Sometimes that little cousin sticks it in his mouth, because he’s four and doesn’t know any better and-

Sometimessometimessometimes

BAM!

Calling 911 wasn’t enough. Screaming, gasping, clawing, CPR, praying, begging, yelling, and weeping wasn’t enough. Throwing up all over the floor wasn’t enough. His dad holding Virgil’s flailing body back from the doctors, pulling his son tightly to his chest, quietly repeating  _ it’s okay, it’s okay; it’s going to be okay _ wasn’t enough. 

Because Virgil saw it; he saw the disfigurement of the innocent face. He saw the blood, the brain matter; he saw the ugly and violent scene. He watched his cousin being zipped into a body bag. He sat as his cousin’s parents screamed and screamed at him. He let them, silently begging them to scream louder to squash the noise of the gun firing off in his head. 

When Virgil was sixteen he learned life is taken away unexpectedly and quickly, 

_ yet there is nothing you can do about it. _

For the first time in a long time, Virgil woke up pooling in sweat, panting and trying desperately to gather his wits. The air around him felt cold and compressing. Patton slept soundly, a few inches away. He heard Logan flipping through his textbooks by the light of a reading lamp from his own bed. 

“Virgil?” Logan asked through the darkness, looking up. “Is everything... all right?”

“Yeah,” Virgil gasped. He probably should have waited a moment before he tried to talk, because instantly Logan knew something was amiss. 

“Are you sure? You sound quite out of breath.”

Virgil ran shaking fingers through his hair. If he closed his eyes he could still see the ambulances driving his cousin a way; if he remained quiet, he could still hear screaming, yelling, banging-

“I need coffee,” he said, feeling as though he was going to throw up.

“I do as well. Would you like to grab some from the cafe?” 

“Sure,” Virgil said. He carefully crawled out of the bed. He unzipped his hoodie and slid it off his shoulders. It dropped to the floor with a quiet  _ thump _ . It felt less enclosing, less claustrophobic with it off, but he knew he couldn’t keep it off, because people asked prodding questions with one look at his arms. The long, white, vertical scar seemed to gleam in the dim light. 

He looked up, realizing he had been staring at it. Logan was eyeing him clinically. Feeling his cheeks heating up, Virgil reached into his bag and pulled out a clean sweatshirt. He pulled it over himself and said, “Let’s go.” Logan followed. 

Campus was silent and dead; the only people up were those like Logan, studying, or those who enjoyed the quiet of the night. Logan and Virgil grabbed their coffees and sat down in the empty cafeteria. The quiet buzz from the workers in the cafe was the only noise to fill the near-silence. 

Logan took a long sip from his coffee- black, one sugar and a splash of creamer. “Can I ask you a personal question?”

“Uhm... sure,” Virgil said, startled, stirring his own coffee- vanilla frappuccino (if you’re drinking coffee, might as well enjoy it a bit).

“I don’t want you to be offended or think I am trying to pry in any way-”

“Logan,” Virgil said, bemused, “just ask.”

“Do you think about your own suicide attempt a lot?”

Virgil blinked; that had not been what he was expecting. “What do you mean?”

Logan looked immensely uncomfortable. “I apologize; that question was... too personal, perhaps?” 

“No, just-” Virgil breathed out deeply. “I don’t like to talk about it.”

“We don’t have to.”

Silence. Then, “I do- think about it a lot, that is. I think about it all the time.”

“Was it frightening?”

“I-” Virgil frowned. “Logan, what’s with the questions?”

Logan turned a dark red, looking embarrassed. “I’m sorry, Virgil, I-”

“It was really scary. There’s nothing like watching your own blood gushing out of your arm to realize you don’t really want to die.”

Logan was gripping his hands together tightly, his face pinched in awkwardness. “I’m sorry.” 

“For what?” Virgil laughed darkly. “You know what? You’re the best person to talk about it with.”

“Why?”

“You actually acknowledge it’s in the past. Everyone else acts like I’m going to do it again.”

Logan drummed his fingers against his coffee cup then placed them in his lap. He looked to Virgil seriously. “Would you?”

Virgil’s heart dropped to his chest.  _ No, Of course not, why would I?,  _ ~~_ there’s always something in the back of my mind that wants to. _ ~~

“No. I don’t want to, but...” His throat felt like it was filling up with glue.  _ Shut up, shut up, Logan doesn’t need to know, shut up-  _ “I get scared that I’ll reach a point where I won’t be able to stop myself. Like last time.” 

“Why did you do it the first time?”

Virgil swallowed. “I went to court when I was sixteen years old. For charges of involuntary manslaughter.”

Virgil had never seen a look of such surprise on Logan’s face before. “ _ What? _ ”

Virgil’s heart was pounding so hard it felt as if it were about to jump in his throat; he’d never spoken about that before with anyone besides his parents and therapist. “I was babysitting my cousin during sophomore year in high school. I was stupid, didn’t take the job seriously enough. So I was just watching T.V. My cousin went off, got his dad’s gun and played with it, thinking it was a toy.”

Virgil was trembling, his hands so shaky he couldn’t still them no matter how hard he tried. Logan reached over and clasped them tightly; it was a gesture of physical comfort, so like Logan, Virgil felt he was about to cry. “Go on,” Logan urged gently. 

“My- my cousin, he was only four years old. He didn’t know any better. He put the damned thing in his  _ mouth _ and and- the safety wasn’t on and I didn’t notice, because I wasn’t paying attention like I should have been and-”

_ bam _

“-and the gun went off. And Logan,” Virgil looked to Logan’s wide, searching eyes with his own wet ones, “Logan, I have never been so disgusted and scared and sick in my entire life. I called 911 and I thought CPR,” Virgil laughed bitterly, “ _ CPR  _ would help. But it didn’t. And then my aunt and uncle blamed me. They sued, they pressed charges and I should have been charged, but my parents fought on my side, hired lawyers and blamed my uncle, because he didn’t lock his gun up properly. We won and my parents sent me off to therapy and that’s when everything went downhill.” Virgil’s hands were still tightly trapped within Logan’s, so there was nothing to hide the bitter tears falling down his face. 

“I’m sick of crying,” Virgil choked out.

“Crying is healthy,” Logan said, “both physically and mentally. Did you know that?”

“No,” Virgil whimpered. 

“Well, it is. Not crying all the time, however; that could be a sign of poor mental health, but with everything going on and these memories resurfacing, I think I understand why you would be crying a lot.” 

Virgil took a shaky breath. “I have PTSD.” Logan didn’t look surprised. “I’ve never told anyone before.”

Logan had a look on his face as if piecing things together. “It makes a lot of sense for such a traumatic incident to cause post traumatic stress disorder.”

“You can’t tell anyone,” Virgil said. Then, feeling as if it was becoming more urgent by the second, he added, “Please, Logan; don’t. I- I would never forgive you.”

“Calm yourself; I wouldn’t go around telling people your secrets.” Logan looked thoughtful. “Who would I tell anyway?”

“Patton,” Virgil replied instantly. 

If Virgil wasn’t mistaken, Logan rolled his eyes. “Oh, please, Virgil. Have some sense, would you? I will not tell anyone.”

“Swear it.”

Now Virgil was sure he saw Logan roll his eyes. “I swear it.”

Virgil relaxed, looking a bit relieved. “You know, it feels good to finally tell someone.”

“There’s a reason for that. The mind is a fascinating thing in the way it stores-” Virgil smiled softly as Logan began his ramble on the way the mind processed emotion and how sharing it was a form of stress relief, etc. Logan had to give himself some credit; he really knew how to help Virgil feel a little better.

_*_

Virgil crept into his own dorm to grab his textbooks. The sun was beginning to shine more than just the little rays of early morning. His phone was vibrating from his pocket as he scrambled to exit before he answered, as to not wake up a sleeping Michael; he apparently had not invited any friends over, for he was sleeping under the covers, not a bit of the dorm even slightly mussed.

“Hello?” he answered. 

“Virgil?”

“Hey mom,” he said. “It’s awfully early; what’s up?”

“I wanted to ask you something,” she said. “Please don’t get upset-”

“Mom-” Virgil said, almost warningly. 

“No, it’s nothing bad- just... We were wondering if you’d like us to come up on Saturday, to the funeral. For support.”

Virgil was silent. It really wasn’t a terrible idea and he did miss his parents. But they might take one look at him and deem him a mess once more. Still yet, rejecting them might be just as bad. They’d worry even worse. “Sure,” he said. “And- you could meet my friends. You’ll love them.”

He could hear his mom’s smile through the phone as she said, “We would love to. How are you doing, anyhow?”

“I... I’m struggling a bit, mom,” he admitted weakly. 

“Have you called your therapist?”

“Well... no.”

“I can’t tell you to do anything anymore, but... It might help.”

“I know,” Virgil mumbled. Then, “How are you and dad? And Smokey?” 

His mom laughed. “We’re good. Smokey misses you like mad.”

“I’ll bet.” Virgil felt a great surge of affection for all of them. “Give her a belly rub for me, would you? And tell dad hi. I miss you guys.”

“We miss you too.”

“I’ll see you.”

“See you too, honey. Bye.”

“Bye mom; love you.”

“Love you too,” she said. “Bye.”

“Bye,” he said again and waited for the line to go dead; he hung up. 

_*_

**Hot Topic (10:32am):** i’m so sorry for last night. I was a jerk.

**Princey (10:34am):** lollll, what?

**Hot Topic (10:35am):** Crap!

**Hot Topic (10:35am):** wrong person.

**Princey (10:36am):** everything a-okay?

**Hot Topic (10:37am):** yep. ttyl :p

**New conversation with Patton!**

**Virgil (10:40):** i’m so sorry for last night. i was a huge jerk.

**Patton (10:41am):** IT’S OKAY! :D

**Virgil (10:43am):** ?.?

**Patton (10:44am):** SORRY I CAN’T FIGURE OUT HOW TO TURN OFF MY CAPITAL LETTERS

**Patton (10:44am):** :D 

**New message from Princey!**

**Princey (10:45am):** hey, heads up; don’t tell patton i screwed with his phone settings and i’ll pay for dinner tonight.

**Hot Topic (11:00am):** whatever, but i’m just saying: i ain’t cheap.

_*_

Virgil told himself he’d call his therapist later; he’d do it when he got the chance. However, he didn’t get a single chance. All of his classes went over, back to normal in full swing; the only remainder of Tyler was a quick reminder about the events on the weekend. Then at Fast Food Hell, it was so busy because of the game that finished right in the middle of Virgil’s shift. Roman gave him a visit and ordered twenty hamburgers. Virgil was certain he did it on purpose. 

Roman picked him up after his shift ended, the Mulan soundtrack pounding against Virgil’s eardrums. 

“I NEED TO GET MY OWN CAR,” he shouted over the music. Roman just grinned and ignored him. 

Roman didn’t back out on his word; they made their way into a small, but busy diner. Virgil tensed as he settled into his seat and Roman began speaking instantly, the crowd seemingly not bothering him at all. 

“So, I have good news.”

“Wonderful,” Virgil grumbled. “Let’s hear it.”

“Oh, c’mon, Grouchy, no need for that. But guess what happened! Guess.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “All of your soundtrack discs tragically burned in a fire.”

“How dare you? And no. Try again.”

“You, uh- Oh! You were kissed by a princess and finally are no longer a toad.” Virgil looked over him, as if skeptical. “Ah, well, that can’t be it. No change.”

Roman rolled his own eyes. “You’re hopeless. But no, I’m an understudy! They’ll let me fill in if Joan gets sick or something.”

“That’s great!” Then Virgil coughed. “I guess.”

“Oh, just admit it; you’re happy for me.” Roman was beaming so hard Virgil couldn’t help but feel a bit happy for him. 

“Whatever. Only a little bit. You’re unbearable when you’re not in your stupid plays.”

“Oh, you’re so sunshiny. I do enjoy spending time with you,” Roman said sarcastically. “So, question-”

“Answer.”

Another roll of Roman’s eyes. “Now, don’t snap on me, but- Are you going to Tyler’s funeral Saturday?” 

Virgil shrugged. “Yeah. You?”

Roman breathed out in something like a sigh of relief that he tried to hide. “Uh- yes. I was hoping I wouldn’t be going alone; none of my theater friends are going.”

“Yeah, I’m going; so’s Logan.”

Roman stirred his water. “Give me five minutes to talk to you with no witty commentary or insults or- or-”

“Go ahead, Roman. I’ll let you talk.”

“I’m sorry for being so... insensitive on Monday. The news was fresh and I have never been good at addressing these things. So, I’m sorry if I hurt your feelings with the stupid things I said.”

“I-” Virgil cut off. He was surprised to say the least. “Okay. Yeah, it’s okay.”

“So... are we cool?” Roman looked unbearably uncomfortable. 

“Yeah, Roman; we’re cool.”

Roman breathed out a sigh of relief, this one unmistakeable. “Okay. Good. Moment over.” 

“Good. Because I’m deciding whether I want to order the large ribeye or filet mignon-”

Roman’s eyes widened in horror. “Those are both thirty dollars! No, I forbid it-”

Virgil was cackling too loudly to hear the rest of Roman’s rant. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ....
> 
> i hope this isn't as bad as i feel it is


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> alternatively titled; Anthony needs a freaking break; someone run me over so I stop hurting my emo child, geez.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings at chapter end notes below. I'm putting them there for those who need them and for those who don't, it won't spoil anything.

**Friday, February 10th 2017**

“I am not a morning person,” Roman groaned. It was barely six in the morning and Virgil, Roman, Patton, Logan were all in the cafeteria, eating breakfast together. Patton had insisted and the rest had (grudgingly), accepted. 

“Stuff it, Princey; it’s already six. Most students are up by now,” Virgil mumbled, chugging his second cup of coffee. He hated to agree with Roman, but he really wasn’t in the mood to be up that early either; staying up until six was a whole different ballgame than getting up before or at six.

“Five fifty eight,” Roman snapped back.

Patton was grinning fondly. “Hey, look on the bright side, kiddos! Tomorrow’s the weekend.”

Roman waved his fork dramatically then stabbed his pancakes. “Woohoo.”

“Who knew Princey could be pessimistic?” Virgil said. “I’m so proud.”

“It’s not pessimism so much,” Logan began, finally looking up from his textbook, “as it is just being annoying.” Virgil snorted, splattering coffee across the table. Logan scowled as Patton grabbed a fistful of napkins and threw them over the mess. 

“What crawled up your pants and died, Logical Disaster?” Roman asked. 

“Maybe I’m just not particularly fond of mornings either.”

Roman looked as if considering it then shook his head. “No, that’s not it. Something up?”

“No.” Logan looked back down to his books and Patton frowned worriedly, looking from Logan’s untouched food to his worn-out face. 

“Are you su-”

Before Roman could finish, Logan sighed then looked up again. “Fine. My mom posted a huge Facebook rant about me, her only son not visiting her in the hospital. Now my entire family tree has read it and I’ve been getting texts and emails and phone calls all morning.” His voice was progressively getting faster and angrier. “Everyone’s taking her side, as usual and I-” he slammed his textbook shut, “can’t- take- it- anymore.” Each word came out like an angry punch. With a final, angry huff, Logan threw his head in his hands. 

Roman looked hesitant and a bit scared. “Er, why  _ didn’t _ you visit her in the hospital?” 

Logan let out a loud cry of exasperation. “See- that, that right there is-” his finger was trembling as he pointed it at Roman, “why I just- I can’t deal with this anymore.” He took a deep breath, seemingly trying to collect himself. “My mom is a manipulative, abusive, and unloving person who never cared about me. That, Roman, is why I didn’t visit her in the hospital.”

Roman blinked. “Logan, I’m sorry- I really wasn’t trying to upset you.”

“I know,” Logan said. He sighed deeply. “I’m sorry for snapping; that isn’t like me.”

“It’s fine,” Roman said with a dismissive wave. “But you, my friend, and far too stressed again.”

“I’m not stressed,” Logan tried to argue. Roman snatched Logan’s textbooks from under Logan and cradled them in his own arms. Virgil watched on in amazement; no one ever dared touch Logan’s books when he was working. 

“Lies. You need to loosen up a bit- get your head out of the books.”

Logan rolled his eyes. Virgil could clearly see Logan was having a tough time holding onto his patience. “Give me my stuff back.” Roman didn’t budge. “Please.”

“It’s a beautiful morning; enjoy it.”

“Just a second ago you were complaining about not being a morning person,” Virgil pointed out.

“What side are you on, Hot Topic?” Roman snapped. 

“I’m Sweden in this case, Princey. Leave me out.”

Roman huffed. “Back me up, Patton.”

Patton took a long drink of his coffee. “I’m with Virgil on this one.” Roman cursed and Virgil couldn’t help a smirk escaping past his lips. 

Logan picked up his own coffee and fixed Roman with a glare. “Will you please give me back my stuff?”

“Agree to do something fun tonight and I will.”

“Fine; what do you want me to do?”

“It’s bonfire night with the theater. I want you all to come.”

“You did not have to take my textbooks ransom to ask for that.” Roman raised an eyebrow expectantly. Logan groaned. “I will go! Is that better?”

“Yes,” Roman said and shoved Logan’s books back to him. “How ‘bout you?” Roman asked looking at Patton.

“Sure, kiddo!” 

Roman grinned. “And you, Hot Topic?”

“Whatever,” he grumbled. 

“Thanks for all your enthusiasm. Makes me feel great.”

Virgil flashed a sarcastic thumbs up. Then his phone began to ring and he frowned, yanking it out of his pocket.

**Call from Michael!**

Virgil’s frown grew bigger. Michael and he never called each other. The most they did was text each other and even that was grudging and rare. It was usually only reserved for Michael kicking Virgil out or Virgil asking if Michael knew where his textbooks went. Virgil pushed himself out of his seat. 

“Sorry, I gotta answer this.” The three nodded in understanding as he took off. 

His palms were sweating and his heart was beating; it was worse than the usual phone-call anxiety. Something...  _ something _ felt dead wrong. 

“Hello?” he asked into the phone.

“‘Eyyyy, Ty.”

“T-Ty?” Virgil swallowed. “Michael- are you drunk? I swear, if you’re drunk-”

“I ain’t drunk. What’s happenin’, Tyler?”

“I’m not- I’m not Tyler.”

Michael burst into laughter so loud Virgil cringed. “Miss you.”

“I’m gonna hang up now,” Virgil warned. His heart was going into overtime. Michael was drunk at  _ six in the morning _ . No one gets drunk at six in the morning. “Okay?”

“Okay.” Michael sounded crushed. “But hey, do you think it’ll hurt?”

“What’ll hurt?”

“Dyin’.” 

“I- I don’t-” Virgil looked around, feeling panicked. “What?”

“I’m gonna come see you! Up, up-”

“MICHAEL!” Virgil shouted. People jerked to look at him, including Patton, Roman, and Logan. “What are you talking about?”

“Shh, I don’t want Virgil to hear- He’s my roommate. Such a bummer, kinda like you-”

“Are you drunk?”

“A little,” Michael said. “And really high. Really really hiiiigh. So high, I’ll die. I’ll diiiiie.” His words were turning into song, but the words sent chills up Virgil’s spine. 

“God, what did you do?”

“Nothin’.”

Virgil didn’t bother to continue the conversation; he threw his phone into his pocket and sprinted out of the cafeteria and up the stairs to his dorm. Once there, with trembling hands, he shakily unlocked the door and flung it open. 

Michael was lying across Virgil’s bed, a bottle of Jack Daniels shattered beside him. He was shirtless, still chattering into the phone; track marks ran up and down his arms. His face had a blueish tint to it, as if he were freezing. 

“What the-”

“Virgil! Hi!” Michael yelled. His voice was too loud. He tried to sit up, but flopped back against the bed. 

Virgil heard footsteps running up behind him and then there was a hand on his shoulder, gently, but effectively pushing him out of the way- Logan. Logan was there. He heard more footsteps behind him.

“What’s going on?” Patton’s voice.

“It looks like alcohol poisoning,” Logan said. Then eyed the track marks and little glass vials. “Or an overdose.” He was dialling a number into his phone and pressing it up against his ear. In the short time, Michael had shut his eyes and began to shake. Logan began reciting the address of campus and Michael’s symptoms into the phone. He was touching Michael’s skin, then feeling for a pulse. Virgil watched on, eyes unable to tear themselves away from the scene.

_ 5:53pm, age 16, Virgil listened to the doctors pronounce his cousin dead. _

“Get Virgil out of here, Patton,” Logan said; he was using his clinical voice, but there was panic bubbling underneath the surface. Why was Logan panicking? 

_ 6:02pm, age 16, Virgil’s aunt and uncle screamed at him for killing their child. _

“Kiddo, come with me,” Patton said, gently grasping Virgil’s arm. “Come on.” Virgil couldn’t move, his eyes fixed on Michael. He wasn’t dead, was he? Already? But Virgil knew better than anyone how quick death can be.

_ 6:49pm, age 16, Virgil was questioned  _ _ interrogated _ _ by police. _

“He won’t move; Roman, help me.” Virgil felt a stronger tug and he was yanked from the room. Logan was still on the phone knelt over Michael. Logan needed help, Logan needed to not have to be alone- 

_ 5:23pm, age 16, Virgil had to call 911 all alone as he knelt over his dying cousin. _

“Can you hear me? Hey- Virgil?” Roman was shaking Virgil’s shoulders. “Buddy, can you hear me?”

_ 7:55pm, age 16, Virgil’s aunt and uncle screamed for the police to arrest Virgil. _

~~_ they should have. _ ~~

_*_

“He’s conscious.” A tall doctor stood in the waiting room, her hair still up in her cap. “We get a lot of these cases- drug overdose and alcohol poisoning around here. He’s confessed that it was intentional and a suicide attempt. We’ve spoken to your son about rehab and we think it would be best if you had a word with him as well.”

Virgil continued to eavesdrop as Michael’s parents nodded grimly, their tear-stained faces blotchy from their sobbing. Virgil shoved his last quarter into the vending machine. He took his time pressing the button for a Coke.

“We will. Can we see him?”

“Yes, ma’am. Follow me.” The doctor turned and led the parents down the hall; there was no reason for Virgil to stay in the hall anymore; he could just grab his drink from the bin and go, but he was frozen to the spot once again. He heard footsteps, then felt warm arms all around him. 

“Patton?” he asked, but he really didn’t need to; no one else would just randomly approach him and hug him like that.

“It’s me,” Patton assured, his breathing heavy and grounding near his ear. “Is this okay?”

Virgil took a heavy breath. “It’s fine.” He swallowed, trying to fight the burning tears against his eyes. “Michael’s okay.”

“Good.” Patton pulled away and reached into the bin, picking up Virgil’s drink. “Let’s go to the others, okay kiddo?”

“Is Logan angry with me?”

“Why would he be angry?”

“I froze up. I-I didn’t help him.”

Patton wrapped a sturdy arm around Virgil’s shoulders. “He’s not angry, kiddo.”

They made their way back to where Logan and Roman sat. Roman stood up as soon as he set eyes on them, making his way over. “Michael?” 

“Will be fine,” Patton assured with a smile. 

Meanwhile, Virgil moved to sit next to Logan. “I don’t remember,” he whispered, “much of what happened after you called 911,” he murmured so only the two of them could hear. 

“You retreated into your mind. You didn’t seem like you were really there.” Logan took a deep breath. “It looked, at least from an outsider’s perspective, like a flashback.”

“I had those under control,” Virgil mumbled. 

“It was traumatic thing to walk into. It’s not surprising you’d experience something like that.” 

Patton and Roman had rejoined the two from their own private conversation. “Let’s go,” Roman said, walking towards the exit.

They followed. 

_*_

**New message from Princey!**

**Princey (7:22pm):** hi

**Hot Topic (7:23pm):** hi? I’m at work

**Princey (7:23pm):** ik

**Princey (7:23pm):** u still wanna come 2night?

**Hot Topic (7:26pm):** idk. ye. 

**Princey (7:26pm):** i’ll pick u up. kay? 

**Hot Topic (7:30pm):** k.

_*_

Virgil called his therapist after he got off work, twenty minutes before Roman pulled into the parking lot.

_*_

The bonfire was at a different house than the Disaster Party was from back in December. Virgil had to admit he let out a breath of relief at that. Instead, it was held at a smaller house with fewer people and only the backyard was open to guests. A great big bonfire was lit up in the middle and several tables were piled high with marshmallows, graham crackers, chocolates, and sticks. 

As soon as they arrived, Patton was already plowing towards the tables and preparing messy s'mores, which he gave out to other students who smiled brightly in thanks. At least, that was until he saw two big black labs and he was all over them in an instant, abandoning the s’mores station.

Logan rolled his eyes fondly. “He has no sense.” But Logan didn’t sound like he minded. 

“Want me to make you a s’more, edgelord?” Roman asked. 

“I wouldn’t complain,” Virgil said grudgingly. Roman grinned and scampered off to complete the task. Virgil couldn’t help shrinking into himself, watching around nervously. 

“You know, I’ve never understood the appeal of bonfires,” Logan admitted. “It seems to be an excuse to get drunk and eat s’mores.”

“Don’t knock s’mores, dude.”

“I’ve never had one so I don’t see the appeal,” Logan said with a shrug. 

“What?” Virgil felt a little like Roman as he made a dramatic gasp. “No way.”

Logan raised an eyebrow. “My parents weren’t into sweets; correctly so. Too much sugar is bad for the body. Did you know that-”

“Logan,” Virgil said, cutting him off. “You’re having a s’more. One won’t hurt you at all.”

Logan shrugged. “I’m not opposed to it.”

Roman came over, holding a plate of three hot and gooey s’mores, a small stack of napkins teetering dangerously on the edge. “Save me one, please. I’m gonna go see Valerie.” With that, he shoved the plate at Virgil and took off.

“Let’s sit,” Virgil suggested. With that, he and Logan sat down on one of the benches further away from the fire. “Here.” Virgil gestured toward the plate. “Take one.”

“They are extremely messy.”

Virgil rolled his eyes and snatched up a napkin and wrapped the bottom half of the s’more into the fabric. “Here.” Logan took it and bit into it; as soon as he did so, Virgil asked, “How is it?”

“Satisfactory.” 

“Good,” Virgil said. He gathered up his courage and said, “I never apologised.” 

“For what?” Logan asked, taking the edge of his napkin and gently dabbing his mouth with it despite there being no mess.

“Acting like an idiot in my dorm. I just- I froze up and I should have helped you.”

Logan took another bite, frowning, as if musing over Virgil’s words. “It’s normal to panic in a situation like that.”

“Patton didn’t-”

“Patton was  _ crying _ ,” Logan stressed. “I was perfectly fine; the paramedics came and took care of him, Virgil.”

“You shouldn’t have had to do everything on your own, though.”

Logan sighed and popped the rest of the s’more in his mouth. “You’re too hard on yourself.”

Virgil snorted. “Coming from you, that’s rich.”

Logan smiled. “Maybe. However, I won’t accept an apology from you, because you don’t need to give one. All right?”

“Fine,” Virgil said with a sigh. Patton chose then to run up to them and sat in the small space between the two of them.

“You guys having fun? ‘Cause I’m having fun.”

“We’re having fun,” Virgil said, grinning.

Roman stumbled over, carrying another a plate of s’mores. He looked startled to see the two still sitting on the plate in Virgil’s hands. “I’m impressed. I thought you’d eat mine.”

“Now why would I do that?” Virgil drawled. 

“More s’mores for everyone then!” Patton cried excitedly. He grabbed one from Virgil’s plate, shoving it in his mouth with no care for the crumbs falling like a waterfall out of his mouth. Logan was wincing at the sight.

“Glad I bribed you into going, Logical Disaster?” Roman asked, sitting next to Logan and nudging him. 

“It’s not unbearable, I will admit,” Logan said. 

“Oh, c’mon. You’re having fun.”

“A bit,” Logan admitted.

Roman grinned. “Good.” He kicked Virgil’s ankle lightly and Virgil jerked to glare while Roman was smirking. “You enjoying yourself, Hot Topic?”

“I’m just really enjoying plotting your murder,” Virgil muttered, rolling his eyes. 

“Good to know!” Roman said with a big smile and leaned back into the bench. 

It wasn’t a bad night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings for: Suicide attempt involving drugs and alcohol is semi-graphically described. 
> 
> Okayyyy, soooo; sorry it took so long. Ik I'm only a day late (and I think people get annoyed with my apologies lol), but thank you all for being so patient and everyone being so supportive of my writing? Warning, I'm about to get mushy, but like, writing means the w o r l d to me, no lie. And it's so freaking encouraging to see people enjoy it??? Like??? Thank you all. So so much. Agh.
> 
> Anyway, I hope this chapter isn't as messy as it feels. Please let me know what you think!
> 
> (also, I don't think I've mentioned it before, but hang with me on tumblr @riivrs where I freak about nearly everything.)
> 
> And I need to end this overly long note. Ta-ta for now! <3


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the curtains close...

**Saturday, February 11th 2017**

Virgil didn’t sleep that night for his nerves were too intense. At five, he gave up on even trying to get any sleep and began to get ready. It was hard, shuffling around in the silence. Michael’s absence was something Virgil never thought he’d be sad over, but there he was... sad.

And really, that was the only way to describe how he felt. Sometimes a person just feels... sad. No matter how obnoxious, loud, or douchey a person was, Virgil didn’t want them to try and kill themself. He wouldn’t be able to get that picture of Michael out of his head; he could just add that to the file of traumatic images he kept stored up in his brain every time he tried to close his eyes. And with that stupid file came piles of annoying anxiety and fear.

~~_because something bad can happen again at any second._ ~~

Virgil wished he didn’t live with so much anxiety. As he ran the scalding hot water over his body, he felt as if his heart was going to explode with nerves. For a moment, he wished he hadn’t said it was all right for his parents to come. If he made one wrong move, they’d freak out and think he was sinking right back into that hole of depression he’d fought his way out of. Honestly, he felt like he’d slipped into it a bit, but he was making an effort to not get dragged completely down again. That counted for something.

Right?

After he threw on a pair of nice pants and a dress shirt instead of his usual hoodie (he stuffed that in a backpack to take with him), he switched on his phone to allow the several notifications to fill the screen.

**Event reminder: Tyler’s funeral (4:30pm)!**

**Missed call from Mom!**

**New message from Mom!**

**Mom (5:13am):** We’ll be leaving around 2pm. Love you! :-)

 **New voice call from Princey! Transcription:** You’re insecure! Don’t know *unintelligible* Turning heads when you walk through the-

**New message from Princey! (2:12am)**

**Princey (2:22am):** whoops, i think i butt dialled u.

 **Princey (2:22am):**...

**New Message from Patton!**

**Patton (5:55am):** Wanna grab breakfast with Logan and me?

 **Patton (5:55am):** logan’s mom drove up in the middle of the night. He’s pretty upset

 **Virgil (6:00am):** Sure. why’d she drive up.

 **Patton (6:01am):** GREAT! :D Come to our dorm! :D (I don’t know. :( Logan said she yelled at him, but he’s not talking much.)

 **Virgil (6:01am):** i’ll be there in a couple mins.

Virgil finished getting ready then headed over to Logan and Patton’s dorm. Logan was the one who answered, looking exhausted and wearing a black dress-shirt, much like his usual one, except with long sleeves.

“Hello, Virgil. How are you?”

“Good. You?”

“Satisfactory.”

Virgil grinned. “Where’s Patton?”

Logan let Virgil in, shutting the door behind him. “Showering. Still.” He rolled his eyes. “Did you know that Roman texted me seventeen different outfits this morning, asking me to pick? I don’t know who is worse; Patton’s long showers or Roman’s obsession with his outfits.”

“Roman,” Virgil responded instantly. “Roman is one hundred times worse.”

Logan smiled. “I suppose.”

Virgil figured now was a better time than ever to try and just confront the issue. “So, I heard your mom came up last night?”

“Yes, she did.” Logan huffed and adjusted his glasses. “I thought that cutting her off would keep her away, but she keeps... coming back.”

“I’m sorry,” Virgil said lamely.

“I’m thinking a restraining order might need to be filed,” Logan mumbled. He paused. Then, “Virgil, do you promise not to tell Patton if I tell you something?”

“Sure.” Virgil moved to stuff his hands into the pocket of his hoodie, but upon its absence, he awkwardly slid his hands over his hips. He crossed his arm over his chest instead.

“You swear?”

Virgil narrowed his eyes. “Of course. What is it?”

“I’ll show you.” Logan began unclasping the buttons on his left sleeve and then rolled it up. Virgil sucked in a breath of surprised air. On Logan’s pale upper, inner arm, were several little claw marks; they were puffy and scabbing over, indicating whoever had a grip on Logan had gripped hard. It didn’t settle right in Virgil; Logan was a peaceful person who would never physically harm anyone. Who could just... _do that_ to him?

“I-” Virgil cut himself off. “Who did that?”

“My mother did it. She was angry at me for ignoring her and not visiting her in the hospital. She grabbed me. It is not really a big deal by any means, however...” Logan bit his lip, which was beginning to uncannily wobble. “I suppose it feels like a big deal to me.”

“Logan,” Virgil breathed out, “of... of course it’s a big deal! Did you tell Patton?”

“No. And you better not dare to tell him; he would be livid.”

“I’m livid!” Virgil said fiercely. “What mother hurts her kid like that?”

“My mother does apparently,” Logan said bitterly. “I cannot stand her anymore. I hate-” Logan swallowed. “I’m not an emotional person, Virgil. I think most people understand this. I do, however, still feel emotion. Right now, I hate my own mother. Is that terrible?”

“Is what terrible, kiddo?”

Logan jerked back in surprise as if electrocuted and yanked his sleeve down over his arm. Patton stood in the doorway towelling down his damp hair. He was frowning in concern at Logan.

“Virgil and I were merely discussing the adjustment of my sleeve cuffs,” Logan lied. Virgil raised an eyebrow at him and Logan glared back.

Patton’s face dropped in something similar to disappointment. “Ah,” he said quietly. “Well, I think you look great.” Patton went over to his drawer, yanking it open just a little too hard. Virgil flinched.

“Uh... is something the matter?” he asked.

Patton froze then slowly returned to pulling a few things from the drawer and tossing them on his bed. “Yes, actually.” He spun around and his face was contorted with sadness, tears bulging at the corner of his eyes. “Why do you two feel the need to keep secrets from me?”

Logan looked down, ashamed. Virgil shifted his feet anxiously. “Patton, we didn’t mean-”

“I’m not hurt by that!” Patton said with a false little laugh that said he in fact _was_ a little hurt by it. “I just wish you two trusted me more, that’s all. Treated me a little more like a friend and less like a...” Patton smiled again through his tears that were beginning to slosh down his flushed cheeks. “A liability or something.”

As Virgil looked back and forth at the two, he was surprised to see tears building in Logan’s eyes. “My mother just...” Logan rolled up his sleeves and gestured weirdly. “I did not feel the need to worry you with it.”

Patton eyed the scratches with wide eyes. “Your mom?”

Logan nodded.

“Kiddo, friends-” Patton sniffed. Virgil dove for the box of tissues sat on Patton’s dresser, desperate to contribute anything helpful to the situation. Patton grabbed a few and nodded in thanks. “Friends are meant to worry and- and share each other’s burdens. Not keep things from each other.”

“I know and I am sorry,” Logan said with a shaky sigh.

“‘S okay, kiddo. I’m just overly emotional- especially today.”

“I’m sorry too,” Virgil mumbled. Patton looked up and met Virgil’s eyes. “I’ve always been garbage at talking about things and I’m sorry if that’s translated into me not trusting you or thinking you’re a liability, because I didn’t mean to do that and I- shoot.” Tears were forming in his own eyes. “Sorry, Patton. You’re really my greatest friend and you have every right to be mad and upset and-” Virgil’s chest was heaving. “Shoot, shoot- Oh, shoot.”

Logan was eyeing Virgil with that clinical expression, as if assessing him and figuring out a solution to his freaking out. Patton rushed over, eyebrows furrowed together in worry. He touched Virgil’s shoulder and Virgil jerked away from the touch, feeling as if it were scalding hot.

“Sorry Patton, I didn’t mean to- I did, but I- I’m sorry.” Each word hurt to get out; he was starting to hyperventilate.

_When Virgil was released from the psychiatric hospital,_

he began therapy once again where he had his first panic attack, terrified of facing his parents again. He was afraid to show his face to them after nearly ending his own life; a life that his parents cared dearly for.

Upon seeing his parents once more, his fears were unfounded. His mom grabbed him tightly, kissing all over his cheeks and sloppily crying into his hair. Then his father hugged Virgil tightly, whispering, “I’m so proud of you, son.”

Virgil learned that sometimes fear is irrational and unfounded, but even so, the

_fear still remains powerful if you let it become so._

“Virgil,” Logan said sternly. Virgil snapped his eyes to Logan who was keeping a safe distance away. “Take deep breaths with me, okay?” Logan demonstrated breathing in and out deeply.

Virgil mimicked the action, his breath shuddering along the way. Patton was watching on, still looking concerned a bit scared. Virgil couldn’t stop mentally berating himself; he’d meant to apologize to Patton and there was, making things about him instead.

“You’re not concentrating on breathing, Virgil,” Logan chided softly.

“Sorry-” he gasped out.

“Breathe in-” Logan took a deep breath; Virgil followed suit. “Out.” Virgil copied Logan’s slow breath outward. “Again.”

“You’re doing very well,” Logan said. “Again.”

Patton watched on while Logan coached Virgil into regulating his breathing once more. After he’d collected himself somewhat and he no longer felt like his chest was being attacked with knives, he turned back to Patton.

“I’m really sorry,” Virgil said.

“Don’t be, kiddo,” Patton said softly. “Are you okay though?”

“I’m fine. I just... I guess today’s making me a little over emotional too.”

“Understandable,” Logan said. “I think we’re all feeling off today. For various reasons, I assume.”

The three looked around to each other, as if taking each other in. Finally, Virgil burst out laughing. Patton frowned and Logan looked shocked.

“Is there something amusing?” Logan asked.

“No,” Virgil said through laughs. “I just- we’re all a huge freaking mess. All of us.”

“Thanks,” Logan said dryly.

Patton, however, laughed too. “Got that right, kiddo. We’re kind of misfits! Like from Rudolph.”

Virgil giggled. “Like from Rudolph.”

“You both are entirely hopeless.” Logan sighed. “Are we getting breakfast or just sitting here?”

“Getting breakfast. And someone should invite Roman! Don’t want him to feel left out,” Patton said.

Virgil was the _lucky_ one who got to invite Roman, which turned into a fifteen minute texting picture dump of at least seventeen varying clothing choices Roman “wanted” Virgil’s advice on (which Roman just ignored every bit of input Virgil had to offer), and then ended with Roman saying, “i’ll decide myself, my emo angst lord. c u guys in a bit.”

They met at Pancake Haven and Roman strutted in wearing black pants and a white dress shirt with a black tie. Virgil twirled his straw in his water with raised eyebrows.

“It took you forever to decide on the most plain option. I’m genuinely disappointed,” Virgil said with a fake sigh of disappointment.

“You look great, kiddo!” Patton said.

Roman sat down between Virgil and Logan and began talking. “I could drive us all later if you’d like.”

Virgil stuck up a finger in protest. “Question.”

“Answer,” Roman said.

“We can take your car-”

“Angelina.”

“We can take _Angelina_ , but you are not driving.”

Roman gasped. “Are you insulting my driving?”

“Yes,” Virgil said. “You break every traffic law possible.”

“Lies,” Roman said. “All lies. But I’ll let you drive. You better take it as the honor it is; Angelina-”

“-is your baby, your darling lover. And every night you sneak out and caress her lovingly, promising you’ll take her away from this dreaded-”

Roman threw his straw wrapper at Virgil. “You’re unbearable.”

“Thank you; I try my best.” He took a drink of water. “By the way, nice singing. I didn’t know you were a One Direction fan?”

Roman’s cheeks turned a dark pink. “I’m not.”

Virgil shrugged. “Too bad. They’re a respectable band.”

Roman’s eyes widened and he slammed his hands down on the table. “Holy- No way. No _freaking way_ . You, Mr. Gripes and Complains about _Into The Woods_ music and sits in his room, angsting over MCR songs, you- _you_ like One Direction.”

“Big whoop. They’re a-”

“Respectable band,” Roman finished. He looked breathless and floored. “I- I can’t figure you out, Hot Topic.”

“You never will.”

Patton had his chin in his hand, smiling fondly. “Afterward, we should all grab dinner together.”

“My parents are coming up, so I’m sure they’d like to meet you guys,” Virgil said with a shrug.

Roman gasped. “We should all go roller skating!”

“Who... Who goes _roller skating_ after a funeral?” Virgil asked.

“Me,” Roman said. “I can’t take sad vibes for too long.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Sad vibes. I can’t deal with you.”

“By sad vibes, are you referring to the downcast atmosphere of a funeral?” Logan asked.

Roman shrugged, shifting in his seat. “Erm, kinda. Funerals are uncomfortable and sad.”

“Got that right,” Virgil said.

“But they do celebrate a person's life,” Patton pointed out. “Like Tyler’s. It shows how many people care. It reminds you how many would care.” He gave Virgil a look and Virgil shifted uncomfortably and tried for shooting Patton a small smile.

“Funerals have a fascinating history, involving many differing cultures, religions, and people, but most do share a common factor and that is that they do in fact represent the impact a person has left upon the world.” Everyone was silent at Logan’s words.

“You really do talk like a textbook,” Roman mumbled. Logan gave a ghost of a smile; Virgil didn’t feel quite all right, but at least with his friends, it felt like a start.

_*_

The funeral home was packed. In the front, Tyler’s mom sat with her back stiff and straight next to Tyler’s little sister who didn’t stop sobbing. The rest of the room was packed with family friends, family, and a bunch of kids from the university. The girl who whispered the comment to Virgil in class sat alone, staring with blank eyes at the flower arrangement. Eventually, she busted into tears almost as loud as Tyler’s sister and Patton handed off his program to Roman to rush to her side, gently wrapping an arm around her shoulders after a few unheard words.

Virgil could already feels his heart tightening and the service hadn’t even started. Looking at the closed casket was the worst; part of him was aware of his body trembling, but the other part could only think _you’ve come so close to this being you before. So. Close._ He almost wished Patton was still over there, even his presence could be comforting. Roman shifted, fluttering needlessly through the program and drumming his feet. Logan sat, looking entirely put-together as he smiled tightly at the right moments to stray people.

“Virgil, honey, sorry we’re late.” Virgil jerked up to see his mom and dad sliding in the seats beside him.

“It’s fine,” he said. “I- It’s good to see you guys. Uhm,” he gestured weakly to Roman and Logan, “these are my friends, Logan and Roman.”

“Pleasure to meet you,” Roman said, smiling charmingly. Virgil’s mom blushed. Logan stuck with simply shaking their hands stiffly.

“Patton’s over there,” Virgil explained, pointing subtly. “So... Yeah. How are you guys?”

“Pretty good,” his mom said, smiling. “Traffic was terrible though. Your dad had to cross the backroads instead of the highway otherwise, we wouldn’t have made it at all.”

Then the small talk was cut short as the music began to play and the service began. It was long, full of crying and uncomfortable speeches. Patton sat with the girl the entire service, her head leaning on his shoulder, her eyes still staring blankly at the flowers as tears ran silently down her face. Silently, Virgil forgave her.

It was over before Virgil could even really register it and everyone was filing out of the building. Virgil found that his hands had finally stilled. Roman, however, looked on edge and was chewing at the corner of the program with a distant look in his eyes.

“We ready to go?” he asked.

“Yeah,” Virgil said. “You guys head out, I’ll be there in a minute.” Logan and Roman walked out, Patton running up to join them.

“Virgil.” Virgil tried not to tense too much as he turned to look at his parents, standing side-by-side, clasping each other’s hands like stupid highschool lovers.

“It’s good to get to see you guys,” Virgil said.

“Us too,” his dad said with a smile. “How’ve you been?”

Virgil shrugged. “I’ve been worse. I’ve been better.”

His dad ruffled his hair. “We love you, kid. We’re always a phone call away if you need us.”

“I know,” he said with a nod. “I love you guys.”

His dad pulled him in for a tight hug, squeezing the back of his neck gently as he did so. “We love you too.”

They fell silent, then after a moment Virgil said, “I struggle with... that I almost did this to you guys.” He gestured around at the funeral home. His stomach felt as if it were churning with nerves for letting go of what he’d held in for so long.

His mom looked on the verge of tears and she took off her glasses and wiped them superfluously, despite them being entirely clean. “You didn’t, honey. And that’s what matters.”

“Does it?” Virgil asked meekly. “Because... I thought... I mean, you’d be angry, right?”

“A little,” his dad admitted. “But we are so proud of you and how far you’ve come. Got it?”

Virgil nodded. “Do you guys want to have dinner?”

His mom smiled. “We both have work in the morning, darling, but we’re planning for next weekend, right? Pizza.”

“Pizza,” Virgil agreed with a smile.

“Good. Now, you should go have fun with your friends. They’re a sweet little bunch.”

Virgil rolled his eyes, trying to muffle his smile. “They’re all far from “sweet,” but... they’re not bad at all.”

_*_

“Is that... is that pizza?” Virgil asked as Roman plopped three cheese pizzas in the middle of the table at the roller skating rink.

“Of course,” Roman said with a grin.

“I love you.”

“I’m noticing a pattern,” Logan observed.

“What’s that?” Virgil asked through a mouthful of cheese, dripping down his face. Roman tossed him a pile of napkins.

“You only state affections towards him when he gives you something.”

Virgil rolled his eyes. “Are you kidding me? I don-”

“It’s because I’m only his sugar daddy.”

Patton and Logan looked entirely bewildered; Virgil looked murderous. “Roman, stop being such an idiot, oh my God.”

“It’s not my fault you only appreciate my material possessions.”

“Shut up. Shut up. Right now. Your stupid face-” Virgil’s face was flaming red; Roman looked too pleased with himself. “Shut it.”

“Creative comeback. How many more do you got?”

“Do you have,” Logan corrected.

“None, because I’m shutting up and enjoying this wonderful pizza instead of bothering with you,” Virgil said, shoving another heavenly bite in his mouth.

“So, have any of you nerds roller skated before?”

“Yes,” Logan said. “I went with a group in senior year. All I did was fall.”

“That’s the fun part!” Roman said. “C’mon, Logical Disaster. I’m gonna help you.”

“I haven’t ate-”

“Come on.” Roman yanked Logan up, who rolled his eyes and followed. Virgil caught the faintest trace of a smile on his face as he was tugged off.

Patton laughed and took a bite of pizza. He looked at Virgil. “How’re you doing?”

Virgil smiled and shrugged. “Decently. I’m really sorry about this morning.”

“Don’t be sorry, kiddo.” Patton said firmly. “You can’t help those sort of things.”

“No- Not that. I- I shouldn’t shut you out. Like I have been. You’ve been my best friend since I’ve been here. Sometimes I just don’t know how to talk about things.”

“That’s okay. I’ve never been really good at it either,” Patton said, a half smile on his face. “After my parents died... It feels like I’m  supposed to be a rock sometimes. A happy rock. Who never gets sad on his own behalf.”

“It’s okay to get sad on your own behalf. I do it all the time, except mine are just overblown pity parties.”

Patton giggled. “Sometimes I feel like throwing an overblown pity party.”

“Do it, Patton. You deserve one. A long one.”

Patton laughed. “When I was little, the kids hated me because I acted like a “girl.” I was just being nice.” Patton shrugged, stilling smiling weakly. “They didn’t like it. They’d beat me up. It was a long time ago, but it still hurts. A lot. I’ve just thought about it lately, how things change. Now, people appreciate me for being nice. It’s weird.”

Virgil bit his lip. His throat felt strangely choked. “I appreciate you. A lot. And so do a lot of people. And I’m glad they do. You deserve it.”

“I told you something. Now you,” Patton said smiling.

Virgil laughed. “We’re taking turns? Is that how this is supposed to work?”

Patton grinned back. “Try something you’re comfortable sharing.”

Virgil thought back. “I... I’ve been going to therapy since I was sixteen. I don’t like people knowing, because they think you’re a nutcase.”

“You’re not,” Patton said firmly.

“I know.” He took another bite of pizza. “Now you.”

“Sometimes it felt like the only people nice to me were my parents. Then they died-” Patton’s eyes welled. “I felt like a loner.” Patton smiled wobbily. “Now you.”

“I have PTSD.”

Patton looked surprised. “You do?” He sounded sympathetic and kind and _gosh_ -

Virgil looked over to where Logan and Roman were on the rink. Logan’s legs were trembling as he clutched tightly onto Roman’s arm. His eyes were wide, face set in determination and a little fear. Roman was laughing, but still cupping Logan upward by his elbows. He’d struck gold in the friends department. He didn’t know why or if he even deserved it, but-

He’d struck _diamonds_.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I don’t like to tell people, but I don’t like keeping it from you anymore.”

“I don’t think of you any less,” Patton said firmly. “If that’s what you’re worried about.”

“I’m not. You... you’re a good person, Patton.”

“Can... Is it okay if I ask what happened? You know... I-”

Logan fell, tumbling to the ground. His face was red, but he was grinning sheepishly as Roman howled in laughter. Logan got back up, legs still shaking.

“Of course,” Virgil finally says. “Yeah.”

Logan aligned himself up against the wall, facing forward. With a little kick, he glided forward, les wobbling in different directions. He went for a few seconds, then stumbled again. Roman skated over and helped him up.

_Virgil’s mom gently carded her fingers through Virgil’s hair. He was a little too old to be sitting in bed, at seventeen, crying in his room with his mom, but everything felt like it was burning to the ground. He felt like he kept falling and falling and falling and never stopping._

_“It’s okay to fall; it’s okay to fall a lot. You just gotta get back up, baby. And sometimes you need people to help you or doctors or therapists. And that’s okay. So long as you don’t stay down. That’s giving up. Don’t give up, sweetheart. You’re precious and I know you won’t give up. When you fall, you’ll always_

_get back up. I believe it.”_

He took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe he was going to tell it again, to another person. But Patton... Patton, he could always trust. Patton the kind, caring, wonderful, and _good_ person deserved to be trusted with it. So Virgil took another deep breath and began.

“When I was sixteen years old...”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AGH! So part of me is like, "I'm so so sorry this update is so late," but if I tried to update sooner, this would have been a big, jumbled mess of little clips and scenes that would not have made sense. 
> 
> ALSO, before I say a n y t h i n g else (bc y'all know how much I talk on the internet, oml), the lovely tumblr user [Cisneconcorbata](https://cisneconcorbata.tumblr.com/) made art inspired by this work???? Yeah, I'm actually shocked and I wept like one of those old ladies in church who just feels so Blessed™. Bc... Dang. Anyway, check it out [here](https://cisneconcorbata.tumblr.com/post/162865352916/whirlpool/) and give it all the likes and reblogs it deserves (And check out her other work too!!), bc she is a fantastic artist. 
> 
> Soooo.... Another WIP I actually FINISHED?? WHAT? 
> 
> Idk what's coming next in this verse, tbh. But I do have something kinda/sorta being planned, so... Yeah. :)
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you thought! This is really a motherload of a chapter (at least for me), and I'm lowkey (*highkey. When have I EVER been lowkey about anything? :P), worried that the scenes aren't flowing together quite right or that I dragged it out too much. But yeah. I hope you guys enjoyed and thanks for sticking with me!!! <3

**Author's Note:**

> Welp. Back again, because I couldn't just... stop with this universe. Whoops? :P 
> 
> This piece is a bit darker than the others in the series... please read the tags. 
> 
> This also won't be updated as often as ADH was; I'm super sorry about that, but I don't have as much time to write as I used to. :/ 
> 
> Anyway... opinions, thoughts, critique? I really enjoy hearing from everyone! :D


End file.
